


Come back

by Elfe90



Category: Warcraft (2016), Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Epic Bromance, Fix-It, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, redemption fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-07-15 12:31:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7222399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfe90/pseuds/Elfe90
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would happen if Medivh had somehow survived the final battle and how would his survival have changed not only Khadgar's story but also Lothar's?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I really wanted to write ever since I watched Warcraft last week. Medivh was by far my favourite character and I wanted to explore the possibilities of what would have happened had he survived the final battle. Just to see how his character would develop and how he would handle coming to terms with what he did.
> 
> Oh, and of course also to further explore his relationships with Khadgar and Lothar. King Llane might be playing a more important role as well as the story progresses.  
> And since I can’t write slash to save my life this fic will be heavy on the bromance. Very, very heavy on the bromance.
> 
> I’m not a WoW-lore expert, only borrowing some things to give this story a little more background. Other than that the fic is totally movie-canon compliant.
> 
> Title inspired by Pearl Jam's "Come back"

“Stormwind… Storm- wind.” Khadgar heard the Guardian whisper. The young man was crouching at the edge of the pond where once the bright-blue swirls of mana had been. In the middle of it lay Medivh, still trapped beneath the golem-turned-to-stone and it didn’t bear thinking about what the weight of it had done to the mage’s body. The Guardian’s face was deathly pale, the now once again blue veins clearly visible through his nearly translucent skin and the strawberry blond beard contrasting starkly against it, highlighting the sharp angles of Medivh’s face, making him appear haggard and frail. Shimmering blue tears, a mixture of salty water and mana, leaked slowly from the corners of the man’s eyes and Khadgar thought he could see for but a moment all of the Guardian’s regrets in these eerie blue beads.

The pond itself was devoid of any kind of arcane power after both mages had drawn so deeply from its resources. Medivh was offering up his own life force to sustain the portal to Stormwind, keeping it open so that their people could return safely to the city. Khadgar thought of Anduin Lothar and King Llane, hoping fervently that they had made it back through the passageway unharmed. When Medivh’s breath faltered and became more and more strained, a small rivulet of blood beginning to run down from one side of his mouth, Khadgar’s attention was drawn back to the Guardian.

“Please,” the young Kirin Tor could hear the pleading quality in the other’s voice, “please…make- make it…,” another shuddering breath was drawn in through clenched teeth “make it back sa- safely.”

Blinking rapidly, it was obvious now how hard Medivh was fighting to stay awake, how he was struggling to uphold his connection with the portal just a little longer. Finally, after some more agonising moments a sigh left the Guardian’s white and waxy lips and with it nearly all the tension in what could still be seen of his body trapped beneath the golem. Green-blue eyes closed, sending one last iridescent tear down the side of the pale face and the dying mage forced out the next few words.

“It’s the loneliness… that makes us weak.” Medivh’s eyes locked on to something far away, something only he was able to see. He took another strained, gurgling breath. “Khadgar…I’m sorry.” The blond man started to cough and bloody foam began to bubble up between his lips, choking him. “So sorry.” His eyes bored themselves into Khadgar’s and the desperation, sorrow and regret the young mage saw in them nearly drove him to tears as well. “I wanted to save us all… I always did.” Khadgar’s heart was heavy with grief when he answered: “Yes Guardian, I know.”

Medivh’s eyes closed and the other let his head hang low, mourning the passing of Azeroth’s Guardian. Born and raised to take on the mantle of Guardian, it was a terribly heavy burden no-one should have had to bear alone. Thinking on that now, it really should not have come as such a surprise that the Guardian had succumbed to influence of the Fel. Without the support of his friends or maybe just a friendly ear to unburden his soul to the troubled mage had been easy prey for the evil and corrupting force. In the end Medivh had been able to honour and fulfil his vow to King Llane and the people but at a terrible price. His own life, ended before he’d ever really had a chance to live it.

All of a sudden the mage’s lifeless body started to convulse. His back arched up against the constricting weight of the golem while his lower body remained firmly trapped beneath it, his arms pinned down at his sides as well. It made the way his upper body twisted and trembled even more grotesque. Khadgar could only watch while everything happened. He was completely petrified by the sight, reminding him of Medivh’s body writhing in agony while he had driven out the demon.

The episode did not even last a minute before the Guardian’s body sagged back against the marble floor, his features slack and his body unresponsive again. Medivh’s sudden stillness seemed to be what brought Khadgar out of his trance. He was spurred into action, scrambling over the edge of the marble pond and sliding down the side to the bottom to get to the other man. A seizure could only mean that Medivh was somehow still alive and now the young mage was becoming terrified of the possibility that the Guardian could truly be dead this time. Lost again, just after he had found his way back to the Light.

“No, no, no.” Whispering frantically, he slid onto his knees next to Medivh’s still form. Frothy blood coated his chapped lips, some of it had stained the beard on his chin and down the right side of his face. The skin was very pale and drawn tightly over the bones, making his face appear almost skull-like. Medivh’s eyelids were closed, the area around them looking dark and bruised as if he had not been sleeping for weeks on end. Khadgar couldn’t make out any movement of the other’s chest so he held out one hand to place it beneath mage’s aquiline nose letting it hover right over his mouth hoping against all hope that he might detect a hint of a breath from the unconscious man.

“No, please.” Now he was the one pleading.

“Don’t do that. By the Light, we only got you back. Please, I beg of you, Guardian, don’t be dead.” The young mage whispered desperately while placing his other hand gently on the side of Medivh’s neck, checking for a pulse. When, after some excruciating seconds Khadgar detected the faint and thready flutter against his index and middle finger, he thought he might weep with joy and relief. The Guardian was still alive, but only just.

With the adrenaline from the recent battle and the shock of relief just now still running through his body the Kirin Tor fought to stay calm and focused. Every action he now took could potentially save or end Medivh’s life. ‘Alright, calm down and think.’ He told himself sternly while trying to fight back the rising feeling of panic that was churning in his gut. He wasn’t very adept at healing yet his first and foremost priority had to be to stabilise the mage’s condition until…. Well, until Khadgar was able to somehow contact a proper healer.

The young man closed his eyes and tried to work through the building anxiety to connect to his inner magical core. He activated his last arcane resources and then recited the most powerful healing spell he knew, transferring the mana into Medivh, so that his body would at least be able to support its vital functions a little longer. Considering the severity of the older mage’s injuries it was just a drop in the ocean, but it should at least keep the Guardian alive until Khadgar could summon help that was more learned in the healing arts.

Just when he wanted to pull back his hands and started to stand up, Medivh let out a weak wheezing cough, his head lolling restlessly from side to side while his eyes moved rapidly behind closed lids struggling to come open. It was obvious that the Guardian was even too weak to properly express the distress and pain he had to be feeling at the moment.  Khadgar lowered himself down at the older man’s side again, one hand coming to rest on the slim chest to monitor his breathing and the other gently brushing through the mage’s reddish-blond hair.

“Guardian?” the young man tried to get the other’s attention but Medivh was clearly trapped inside his own battered and broken body, not being able to move so much as a single finger on command.

“Medivh,” Khadgar tried again “you- you have to stay still. Don’t waste your energy, please. You’ve been gravely injured and need to save your strength. I will help you, I promise. Everything will be alright.” Despite not knowing how he could fulfil that promise, Khadgar just wanted to give the Guardian something to hold on to. Anything, to keep him grounded through the terrible pain he surely had to feel, both in body and mind.

“Khad… gar.” Medivh’s voice had an alarming breathiness to it as he haltingly called the young man’s name.

“Yes. Yes, I’m here.” Khadgar hoped his own voice didn’t betray his anxiousness but instead sounded firm and soothing. “You’ll be alright, Medivh.”

Whether it was the use of his given name or the gentle, soothing hand Khadgar was still running through the man’s hair, Medivh seemed to give up on trying to stay conscious, knowing someone he trusted was nearby. So he let the pain and exhaustion pull him under again, his mind following his body and ceasing the struggle against the nearly unbearable agony. The young Kirin Tor began to panic when he noticed how all tension had left Medivh’s body once again.

“G-Guardian?” he asked frantically. “Medivh?!” But this time there was no rousing the deeply unconscious mage. His breath was going slow and laboured, brows creased together in pain even now. Khadgar pushed another pulse of healing magic into the injured man’s body, ensuring that his condition would at least not deteriorate further. Then he stood slowly, trying to assess the current situation.

If he wanted to safe the Guardian, he would somehow have to get him out from under the crushing weight of the golem. Only then would a healer be able to attempt mending all the damage done to Medivh’s body. ‘So I will just- well, I will just have to get this thing off him.’ The young man thought, reaching deep inside himself to summon his arcane power again. With his mana almost spent, he wouldn’t be able to lift the golem for more than a moment or two, so he needed to act fast when trying to pull the mage out. Concentrating hard on the task at hand, knowing that one wrong move could cost Medivh his life, the young man did not hear the tell-tale sound of beating wings, announcing the arrival of a gryphon and his rider.

Anduin Lothar was just entering the Great Hall of the tower as Khadgar was summoning his magic to lift the stone-golem off of the Guardian. “What do you think you’re doing!?” the warrior yelled, taking the last few steps towards the Kirin Tor in a run.

Shaken out of his concentration, the shimmering blue light faded promptly from Khadgar’s outstretched palm and the young man whirled around to face Lothar with an angry stare. “I was _trying_ to save the Guardian’s life.” He bit out between clenched teeth. “He is still alive and I have done what I can to keep it that way. But we have to get him out from under there so that a proper healer may treat him or he won’t be alive much longer. He is your friend, right? So please, help me!” His tone was equal parts desperate and accusing and Lothar’s gaze turned towards the man who had once been one of his closest friends. Before. ‘Before all of this.’ Lothar thought. How had such a tragedy come to pass?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how it is: RL happens. In my case A LOT of RL happened. So sorry for that folks. Here's the next chapter.

While his gryphon was taking him on the fastest route to Karazhan, Anduin was still itching to go faster. Seldom before in his life had he felt such a deep and unsettling unrest, paired with the foreboding notion that he would be too late to stop a tragedy from happening yet again. The only other time he’d felt anything like it was when Cally had gone into labour and he really didn’t want to dwell on the outcome of that situation right now. So instead he focused on the present, recapping the events of the last few hours.

When the portal to Stormwind finally collapsed the orc army had been severely weakened by the fight against King Llane’s army, even if the final battel against the otherworldly creatures had to be postponed, thus still leaving the realm in a fairly dangerous situation. But most importantly, the immediate threat of an invasion was banned. The king had survived the final battle relatively unscathed and they’d been able to save all of the prisoners and their remaining forces through the portal, arriving safely back at Stormwind. 

On some level Lothar understood this meant Medivh had come back to the Light in the end, saving them all by changing the route of the portal and upholding the connection as long as possible. Problem was, however, he wasn’t really sure how to feel about Medivh’s apparent redemption. The warrior’s emotions were all over the place after the events of the last couple of days – learning about the orc invasion, seeing Medivh again for the first time after six years of literally no contact, witnessing Callan’s death -don’t think about it now, you need to stay focussed- and finally discovering the Fel’s influence over the Guardian of Azeroth along with all the consequences it entailed. 

Lothar had already blamed Medivh for Callan’s death before he even discovered what had really transpired in the Black Morass or why. The Guardian was supposed to be the most powerful mage in all of Azeroth, he should have been able to keep them all save. After all, protection had been the sole reason for him accompanying Llane and his entourage to the meeting with Durotan. Yet Callan had still died. When they had met again in the armoury afterwards and Medivh accused him of letting Callan fight despite the fact that he “should have known his son wasn’t ready”, trying to rid himself of the responsibility for the young man’s death… Half crazed with grief and guilt as he was, Lothar had wanted to take the Guardian’s head straight off his shoulders, friend or not, and would have done so without hesitation had he but gotten the chance.  
Believing the death of his son had been the result of a mistake made by the Guardian, a miscalculation of his powers, had been bad enough already. But when he figured out the real reason behind Medivh’s failure after Khadgar had informed him about how exactly the mage had betrayed the very people he was sworn to protect Lothar’s rage and anguish knew no bounds. Because if the mage hadn’t succumbed to the influence of the Fel he would not have been too weak to lift his spell in time and Callan would still be alive. 

As a consequence, there had been only one thing on the warrior’s mind following his release from prison: going to Karazhan to take out Medivh even if that meant killing him. The mage’s treason against the realm, his king and friends coupled with his involvement in Callan’s death had Lothar burning with fury and a thirst for vengeance right before their confrontation with Medivh at the tower. And for the better part of the fight he had been able to rely on those feelings to see him through it, making him continue to fight someone who, for most of his life, had been one of his closest friends. Yet all the rage and grief and desperation somehow didn’t seem to matter anymore when the demon had finally broken through the last of Medivh’s defences, taking full control over him and forcing Anduin to witness what the Fel and its servant had reduced the mage to. 

When he had seen this creature, twisted and warped by the evil magic for Light only knew how long, smiling maliciously at him through the eyes of the man he had grown up with, wearing his face like a mask, it felt like being gutted with a serrated knife. Because deep down Lothar knew that despite everything that had transpired before, he simply couldn’t hate Medivh so much as to wish a fate like that upon him. Couldn’t really blame him for everything that had happened, either, as the Guardian had been fighting the Fel’s influence for as long as he’d been able.

That was how, amidst all the anger, desperation and feelings of betrayal, there bloomed the feelings of bitter disappointment and total disbelief as well. The warrior just couldn’t begin to comprehend what had driven Medivh into the arms of the Fel. The mage had always been one of the kindest people he knew, his slightly mischievous streak, a rather rare thing amongst the oh-so sombre kind of spell-chuckers, making him even more endearing. Sometimes a bit haughty and aloof, later often troubled by the heavy burdens of his responsibility as Guardian, yes. But he had still always been a kind, gentle and compassionate person with a soft heart, whenever his duty to Azeroth did not necessitate one of steel. Which made it so hard to understand and accept Medivh’s fall.

However, no matter how often Lothar tried to convince himself that there had been no signs of the Guardian’s imminent fall he knew that he was really only trying to fool himself. When he let the last six years slowly pass before his mind’s eye he had to admit that there had been certain points of concern. But they had all simply chosen to ignore the warning signs. Which had been easy of course, since Medivh had hidden himself away at Karazhan, neither answering the letters Lothar sent to him nor, in the end, attending official functions of the kingdom at Stormwind in his capacity as Guardian.

I should have done more than just writing letters, Lothar thought and with this realisation, finally, came the guilt, settling heavily upon the warrior’s shoulders. Ever since he had begun to suspect the traitor in their midst was their own Guardian he had felt a knot forming in his stomach but he hadn’t been able to identify what caused it. Now he knew: it was guilt. Anduin felt guilty because he knew that he had visited his friend far too few a time since the other had taken up the mantle and staff of the Guardian of Azeroth. He had told himself then time and time again that his own duties were what kept him from seeing Medivh but in the end he knew this was just a lie he told himself to soothe his guilty conscience. In truth, Lothar had been disconcerted by the extraordinary power Medivh was able to wield and had also been a bit wary about how this power had changed the mage’s character and behaviour when he became Guardian. And he was sure this was what Llane had felt as well.

Medivh, Llane and Lothar had grown up together since early childhood. With all of them being around the same age, they had been right little terrors at court back then, playing pranks on servants and nobles alike. It had been a carefree time for all three boys, Llane a prince who had not yet to take over many of his royal duties, Lothar being trained as a warrior but still too young to go through the regimen properly and Medivh’s powers had not yet fully manifested nor his mind been consumed by his studies. 

So they’d had a great deal of leeway concerning their daily tasks and obligations, something that would inevitably change later on with the approach of adulthood. Medivh’s mother had died in childbirth, leaving her son to be raised by his father who was a sorcerer at the court of Llane’s father, thus making him a ward of the old king. And even with his powers not yet fully developed Medivh had shown great promise of becoming a powerful mage from a very early age on. He was an attentive student, eager for knowledge and wisdom, adapt in the arcane arts like few others. 

Then one day, the three young boys had been ambushed by trolls while they’d been riding out. They had survived, not least because of Medivh’s quick thinking and spell work, but being unpractised in battle magic as he was, the young mage had nearly killed himself with the powerful incantations and as a result had fallen into a coma. It had been a traumatic event for the Llane and Lothar, leaving them feeling guilty and responsible for their friend’s condition which caused the prince to eventually stop visiting Medivh altogether, just a few short months after the accident. Lothar on the other hand had made it his priority to spend as much time with his friend as possible, often helping the monks of Northshire Abbey to care for the unresponsive youth. Medivh remained in a comatose state for nearly ten years, awakening just a few days shy of his 24th name day.

With the trauma of having spent over a decade in an unresponsive state while the rest of his world lived on, changing, as well as with his power now fully manifested and growing stronger by the day, Medivh had begun to change. Where he had been reliable, certain und steadfast in the past he had started to become unpredictable, restless and unsettled, often prone to melancholia and intense mood-swings. As Anduin recapped the events now, he understood that it had been simply a natural reaction to falling into a coma as a fourteen-year-old boy and then waking up in the body of an adult. Add to that the pressure of a Guardian’s responsibilities being suddenly placed on the barely recovered mage and it was no wonder Medivh had felt as if his world had been turned on its head. 

During one of his ever more frequently occurring fits of anger Medivh had lashed out at Lothar, accusing him of being responsible for the years he’d lost, for it was the young warrior who had suggested to go out for a ride back in the days. And although the mage had later apologised for his unjust accusations the subject had never been raised again by either of them. But it had left Lothar with the feeling that his childhood-friend still held him responsible for the accident that had robbed him off the carefree years of adolescence, casting him into a world where everything had changed. Lothar’s youthful pride being hurt, he had left the new Guardian to his own devices.

Looking back now, Lothar could tell what a trying time this must have been for Medivh. Suddenly being a responsible adult, it was expected of him to take up mantle and staff of the Guardian as soon as the mages of the court had deemed him fit to do so. He had been thrust into a world he didn’t know anymore, that had continued to change without him being a part of it. And Anduin had not been there to help his friend adjust to this new and no doubt terrifying situation, had neither been there to listen to his concerns and worries nor to offer advice or help him through those trying times by simply offering a friendly shoulder to lean on for support. 

After Medivh had woken from the coma, the warrior had done the same thing Llane had done many years prior and simply broken off the contact, retreating to a life at court where his sister who had just married Llane. He had channelled all his attention and energy into his duties as councillor and warrior to the king, letting his friendship with Medivh slowly fade until it was only distantly remembered.  
To be sure, they saw each other on special occasions once or twice a year, or when King Llane was in need of the Guardian’s council (which had not been terribly often, considering the last years had been peaceful). But during the first year of Medivh’s guardianship the relationship between Llane, Lothar and the mage had been somewhat strained. They all remembered the close friendship that had tied them together during their childhood, but that had been too long ago to fall back on now. A new precarious balance had to be found between the king, his brother-in-law and captain and the Guardian of Azeroth.

So the two men had started to treat the mage as one would a very distant relative –courteous but not necessarily affectionate. In return, Medivh met them with the aloof and haughty behaviour befitting his station as Guardian, attesting to most of the prejudices held against powerful mages. At best, Lothar had seen the mage only a handful of times during the last six years because even if there was a reason to return from Karazhan to Stormwind, Medivh would often chose not to come until it was absolutely necessary. He’d excused himself from most of the kingdom’s celebrations, instead going on trips to distant lands that lasted longer and longer each time he went. It was clear to Lothar that Medivh must have come under the influence of the Fel during his travels, therefore leaving his tower more and more often. Especially in the last year or so, during which the Guardian had been nearly incommunicado, never staying longer than a few nights at Karazhan.

Seeing Medivh again just a week ago had stirred up a lot of memories for Anduin - most of them distant but nonetheless fond – and that had really driven home the fact of how much he had missed his friend. The old Medivh, as he had once been with his subtle and understated humour, his quiet confidence and nearly inexhaustible knowledge. Being close to him again, interacting with him during the last couple of days, made Anduin realise how much he missed the old friendship and easy banter with the now standoffish mage, wistfully remembering a time when they had both been younger and more carefree. Not as troubled, each by their own responsibilities as they were now. 

Perhaps, if he had just come to see Medivh more often, talked to him… If he had not been deterred by his own youthful pride and the snide accusations of an insecure and frightened young man spoken in the heat of the moment. Maybe all the terrible events of the last few days could have been avoided, possibly even the terrible death of his son. Had Anduin just been to Karazhan more often, mayhap he would still have the confidence and friendship of the mage with whom he had grown up.

In the end Medivh had redeemed himself by changing the passageway of the portal to Stormwind, saving King Llane and next to all of what remained of their own forces. That the portal had not collapsed until after all had been saved was making Lothar hope against all hope that Medivh was still alive after coming back to the Light, coming back to them. So he had told the king he had to go, that he simply needed to see if there was anything left of the good man he had once known that could be saved. 

Llane had let him go without so much as a word but with a fierce nod and an imploring glance, conveying his hopes that Anduin would be able to save the Guardian who was also the king’s friend. Both of them could see it in the each-others’ eyes: they desperately wanted Medivh to be alive so that they might get a chance at saving a friendship which should never have been broken.  
Lothar was startled out of his reverie by his gryphon landing on the topmost platform of the Guardian’s tower and he nearly fell off his mount in his haste to get inside. The warrior stopped dead in his tracks when he entered the Great Hall, taking but a moment to observe the picture presenting itself to him. 

There in the middle of the fond once brimming with bright blue mana stood Khadgar, now the lone source of the blueish glow of the arcane power that surrounded him while he was clearly in the process of weaving a spell. And seeing as the young man was standing right next to Medivh’s body that was still trapped beneath the golem Lothar knew instinctively what Khadgar was trying to do. Only, if Medivh was really still alive he had to stop Khadgar. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first real fic after five years of drabble-writing and I hope to update it regularly at least every two weeks.


End file.
